Standing Empty

The manner of is always different, a fist is clenched and falls, from water the cancer of mould slowly leaks, but afterwards the same thing’s always gone: coherence, the sheen of use. There is no wall here signifying itself, no window plays the mirror, no angle’s yet right, Uselessness is the beauty of decay and…

Riposte to Death

Esther Jansma’s Poetry Mourning. Cherishing the dead. Examining, delaying, outwitting, toying with, and renaming death, in order finally to let go of it again. This is the essence of Esther Jansma’s work. Esther Jansma, born in 1958 in Amsterdam, made her debut in 1988 with Voice under my Bed (Stem onder mijn bed), an impressive…

Archeology

If we really have to dress ourselves, against the cold for instance, or in the name of this or that, in the remnants of some past or other, stories and aids to memory that tell nothing except that we were there in the time that was here before this today if we can sustain ourselves…